


Starhunters (Starship/Trollhunters AU)

by themostpowerfulsorcerer



Category: Starship - Team StarKid, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:40:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26512291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostpowerfulsorcerer/pseuds/themostpowerfulsorcerer
Summary: It’s been years since the era of the first human Trollhunter. The Trollhunters are now a guild of ready-trained warriors in teams, just waiting for one of them to be chosen by the Amulet. It’s a few days before the choosing day when one of the members of Troupe 15, February, goes missing after heading out on a solo mission. The rest of her team assumes she’s been attacked by a horde of Neo-Gumm-Gumms; trolls who still follow the ideas of Gunmar even years after he’s been defeated, and they decide to go after her.Meanwhile, a small colony of trolls has settled a miles east of the ruins of Heartstone Trollmarket. Amongst this colony lives the very last of the Changelings, who simply goes by the name of Bug, Yet this one isn’t an assassin. In fact, if you’d get to know him, he’d probably remind you of a younger, much more naïve Jim Lake Jr., as he wants something more out of his life. More specifically, he wants to be a Trollhunter.
Relationships: Bug/February (Starship), Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez, Megagirl/Tootsie Noodles
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Starhunters (Starship/Trollhunters AU)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work and completely self indulgent. I've recently finished the entirity of the Tales of Arcadia series (until Rise of the Titans comes out next year), and Starship was always been my favourite of the Starkid musicals. So I thought I'd just do a fun little AU. So I hope you enjoy!

Bug ran around the remains of Heartstone Trollmarket, wielding a wooden version of the sword of Daylight.

“For the glory of Merlin!” he shouted as he slashed through imaginary Gumm-Gumms re-enacting a battle he vaguely remembered hearing about. He was in his human form, a form he felt more comfortable in, if you asked him, and ran around the ruins like they were his own personal playground, “Warhammer, on your left!” Bug called to an imaginary teammate, dashing to their side and taking out a Gumm-Gumm that would’ve killed them. He then ran up to the bottom of the stairs and froze, sword held aloft, “Gunmar,” he growled at the large evil Troll that only he could see in an impression of what he thought Jim The Bular Slayer sounded like.

“Surrender the Amulet, fleshbag,” Not-Real Gunmar threatened, “And I will give you the mercy of a quick and easy death,” 

“Never!” Bug shouted, “A Trollhunter never yields! I will die before the Amulet falls into your hands!” 

Not-Real Gunmar growled, “Terms. Accepted.” 

The giant Troll jumped over the small black haired boy and began chasing him. Bug, in an attempt to evade Imaginary Gunmar, ran into a part of the ruins he’d never been in before, and as he gazed around at the high ceilings and left overs of statues of other Trolls, the made-up danger of being killed by the Gumm-Gumm King faded as Bug realized where he was. 

“Hero’s Forge,” he breathed, awestruck to be in such a sacred old room. He raced over to where he knew the activation button was, and turned back into a Troll briefly to turn it on. The ancient training grounds sprung to life, and Bug ran into the swinging blades head first, ducking and dodging as though he’d been training in this space for years.

“Excellent reflexes, Master!” an unfamiliar voice spoke to Bug, as though he had tapped into some echo of a long faded memory of this place, or perhaps he’d just imagined that he was being trained. Still, he grinned at the compliment, and continued to play-fight his way through the probably now dull blades. 

“Bug?” a familiar voice called from outside the Forge. A real voice. 

Bug quickly ran over to the button and shut it off, hiding behind a slot in the wall. 

“Bug, are you in here?” a small purple Troll with little bat-like wings flew into Hero’s Forge.

“No, but I am! THE TROLLHUNTER!!” Bug jumped out from his hiding place and ran at his friend with a battle cry, sword over his shoulder.

The purple Troll, Roach, rolled his eyes as Bug slashed and stabbed at his friend, intentionally missing or tapping lightly, of course, and pretending he was an enemy, “How’d I know you’d be in here?” 

Bug huffed in disappointment, “Can you pretend to die?”

Roach sighed, “Okay,” he fell on his side and gagged, more as though he was being strangled then having been stabbed with a sword, but Bug didn’t mind.

In fact, he cried out in triumph, “Ha ha! The Gumm-Gumm Prince has been slain!” he slung the wooden blade over his shoulder and rested his hand on it, “All in a day’s work for the Trollhunter,” Bug sighed with ease.

“Okay Bug, can we please just get out of here? The ruins give me the willies, and no one even knows what they’re from!” the small Troll exclaimed.

“I do! Heartstone Trollmarket!” Bug explained.

“Yeah, whatever,” Roach dismissed his friend’s comment with a wave of his hand, “There’s a chunk of dead Heartstone, which means zombies, and I. Don’t. Like it,” he crossed his arms and frowned. 

“Oh c’mon, Roach,” Bug slumped, “Hey! I have a great idea! We’ll find you a weapon and you can fight with me!” 

“Nonononono! Your ‘games’ are sad and scary, they’re not the kind of games that Trolls play. Plus, I don’t know how to use weapons,” Roach said the last part quieter.

“That’s okay, I can teach you!” the black haired human suggested.

“No,” Roach denied, “Let’s just get back to the colony?” he begged, “We’re not supposed to be out here, and you’re already on the edge with the Queen letting you survive. You are a Changeling, after all,”

“So? Just because it seems like I came from from something evil, doesn’t mean I’m evil,” Bug defended, putting a hand to his chest as he referred to himself, “Plus, no one else in the colony knows I’m a Changeling,”

“And we don’t want them finding out!” the purple Troll scolded. He began leading the way back to the colony, shaking his head, “I swear I think you’re more human than Troll sometimes,”

“I wish I was more human than Troll,” Bug muttered. 

Roach, upon hearing this, looked back at him quizzically.

“Well, come on!” the black haired boy jumped into a hypothetical, one he’d clearly been thinking on for quite a while, “The Trollhunter that defeated Bular and Gunmar was a human! To be more human is to be…” he moved his hand in a circular motion as he searched for the word, “...more! Than you ever thought you could be!” a wistful, almost longing look found its way into Bug’s gaze, “Haven’t you ever wanted more out of life than just the colony?”

“No,” Roach responded flatly, “And in my opinion? Neither should you. If you’re this bad at hiding the fact that you’re a Changeling, then my suggestion would be to keep your head down and survive,” 

“But I don’t wanna just survive,” Bug ran ahead, letting the sword rest at his side, “I wanna be more! See more! Do more!” he gestured widely. Roach watched, head tilted to the side in an inquiring way. Bug smiled and looked down at his hands, gaze flitting from his left to his right. He raised his sword into the air, as though ending off an inspiring speech, “I wanna be a-”

“Trollhunter, I know,” Roach cut him off, groaning as he continued past his friend towards the colony’s camp. Bug let his sword fall to his side again, looking a little deflated as he followed the air-borne Troll, “You know, you have to pass certain tests to get into the guild, and I doubt they’re gonna let in anything that originates from the Darklands,”

“But I’m not from the Darklands,” 

“They’re not gonna know that,” 

“Then they wouldn’t care!” Bug proclaimed, “The Trollhunters guild isn’t discriminatory of where you came from! There’s aliens in the guild, Roach!”

“And I’m betting those aliens don’t look like they come from somewhere that the Trollhunters seek to destroy,” 

Bug opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it. He was hurt. He’d never asked to be this way, it just happened that way. If he could’ve made it that he was born as just human or just Troll, preferably human for him, Bug would’ve done anything in his power to make it that way. Bug wasn’t even technically a Changeling. Sure, he could shift forms between human and Troll, but it wasn’t like there was a baby being incubated elsewhere named Bug and he had taken his human form. Bug was just like this. Even he didn’t know why. But, of course, whenever someone found out about his abilities, they would assume he was a Changeling, and probably either capture or kill him on the spot. He was lucky that Queen Ovara had been merciful and allowed him to explain himself. Only Ovara and Roach actually knew the truth of Bug’s abilities, and tried their best to protect his secret, even when he wouldn’t. Still, Bug didn’t like that his powers made him seem like a creature of the Dark, especially when he wanted to fight for good. 

“You’re gonna want to be a Troll if you’re coming back into camp,” Roach teased, “You know how the guards will react to outsiders,”

Bug sighed and changed back into his Troll form and threw his sword off to the side. He’d know where to find it again, if he was ever allowed back out. 

“Who goes?” called Dolaf, one of the guard Trolls at the entry gate.

“Roach and Bug,” Roach responded calmly.

Dolaf grunted, “Proceed,” he let them through the gate, which was actually more like a moss curtain. 

Bug’s home colony was a group of nomadic Trolls called the Hidden Colony. They were created by a Troll who disagreed with the Tribunal’s judgements, punishments, and general political structure, so she set off with a few friends to create their own colony, completely separate from the other Trolls in the Tribunal. Some Trolls viewed it as a colony of complete freedom, others viewed them as treasonous for separating themselves from the rest of their kind, and most viewed them as cowards, for not participating in the war against Gunmar. Above the settlement tents, a criss-cross pattern of strings with hanging light crystals glowed like close-up stars. Beneath that, Trolls bustled around, chatting with neighbors and buying things from the few merchants that the colony had collected. It wasn’t that Bug didn’t like his home, he loved it! But he didn’t intend to stay with them forever. He needed to get out! Live his own life! It was a much more human sentiment, but that’s what Bug loved about it. Roach led his friend to the back of the camp, and the biggest tent, and opened the flap to let him inside. Bug looked behind him, hoping the flying Troll would follow in after him, but no such luck. He bowed as he saw the queen entering from a separate part of the tent.

“Queen Ovara,” he greeted solemnly. 

“Outside of camp again, were we Bug?” she said, her tone even, but Bug knew this was about to become scolding. 

“I wasn’t far outside camp, your highness,” the orange Troll defended, standing up.

Ovara scoffed, “One foot outside camp is too far from camp,”

“But there was nobody around, I promise! I was-”

“And what if there had been somebody around?” the queen cut him off, “If someone had seen you-”

“No one did!”

“But if they had, Bug,” Ovara silenced him, “That is the point here,” the pink Troll sighed, “When I took you into this tribe as a youngling, I swore I would protect you! Just as-”

“Just like my parents wanted. I know, you’ve told me a thousand times,”

“Then why do you continue to disobey me?” the queen shouted. The smaller orange Troll flinched. Ovara sighed, “Bug, your gift is...unique. Something the likes of Trollkind has never seen before! If you fell into the wrong hands-”

“Why do you refer to me like I’m a weapon? I’m a human-” he stopped, then cleared his throat, “I’m a Troll, like everyone else,”

“I’m not saying you’re a weapon,” Queen Ovara attempted to sound soothing, “But if bad Trolls-”

“Call them Gumm-Gumms, Ovara. That’s what they are,”

“Bug, I am your queen and you will respect me as such!”

Bug flinched again and fell back into a bow, “Yes, your majesty,”

Ovara pinched her nose and growled at herself, “Rise, Bug. I’m sorry, I just need you to listen,” something forlorn found its way into the queen’s blue eyes, “You are my ward, and I consider you to be like my son. I don’t want you getting captured by these...Gumm-Gumms, and getting hurt, or getting forced to do things I know you wouldn’t actually want to do. Or anyone else for that matter. The only way I know how to lessen that risk is to have you stay in camp, under the constant watch of family and friends,” 

“You can’t just keep me in here forever!”

“As your queen, I absolutely can,” she responded, matter-of-factly.

Bug hung his head.

“But, as your guardian, I know you are a very free spirit, and no matter how hard I try to keep you in, you will always want out, and there will come a time that I won’t be able to stop you. So, I give you this proposition, Bug,” 

The orange Troll looked up hopefully.

“If you can prove to me that you are strong enough to survive on your own by next week’s games, then I will allow you to leave camp for longer periods of time,”

“You don’t allow me to leave camp at all,”

“Precisely. You are dismissed,” Ovara turned away from her ward.

“Um, your majesty? One more question,” Bug spoke up.

“Just one, then you must leave me to my duties,” 

“How am I supposed to train and grow stronger if I’m forced to stay inside the camp?” 

The queen smirked, “Well, that is something you will have to figure out on your own,” 

Bug frowned, but left the tent. Roach approached him from the side and bombarded him with questions.

“Well? What’d she say? Did you get in trouble? How did she look? Did you tell her I thought she looked nice?”

Bug paused, and turned to his friend. Said “Never gonna happen, dude,” and continued walking.

In a place, not too far from the Hidden Colony’s camp, Troupe 15 of the Trollhunters guild sat around a table, waiting for their sorceress, February, to return from a council with the High Sorceress. Uprek, nicknamed ‘Up’, a rather large Krubera Troll and the team’s tank, paced nervously.

“She should’ve been back by now, right?” his tone sounded on edge. For one so big, Up was quite a jumpy and on-edge Troll. Uprek had once been a terrifying and formidable commander in war, but he had been rather badly injured in a long ago battle, and the shock had never quite worn off. 

“Relax Up,” Taz said dismissively, a small, black haired Latina girl with a strong Mexican accent, who was leaning back on her chair, arms crossed and keeping balance by having her feet firmly planted on the side of the table, “The High Sorceress isn’t going to kill her or anything,”

“Yeah, chillax, dude!” Krayonder, the knight of the team, added, spinning a dagger around on the table, “Feb’ll be back any second,”

Just as he finished saying that, the door to their room opened. Everyone looked up to see if it was their sorceress returning. Instead, it was Meda, an Akaridion and the troupe’s technician. She was in her human disguise, which made her have a bob of white-blonde hair, and brown eyes that looked like translucent fall leaves. 

“I have returned with news from the High Sorceress,” she started. Meda always sounded a bit like a computer, reading off of a predetermined script, but it was something that Troupe 15 had come to love about her, “Permission to relay?” she asked Up.

“Permission granted,” the Krubera grunted, sitting down.

Meda nodded in respect, “The High Sorceress states that Troupe 15 is one member short of being a full Troupe, and has employed our sorceress, February Moonbeam to go out and retrieve us a suitable fighter before the day of choosing,” 

“That’s loco!” Taz stood up, nearly knocking her chair to the ground, “February shouldn’t be the one choosing our members! She’s just gonna find the first cute person she sees and bring them back home like a little lost puppy!”

“The High Sorceress has made her decision,” Meda sounded annoyed, “I am merely the messenger, so yelling at me is pointless, Tazielle,”

Troupe 15’s warrior walked up the the white haired Akaridion and pulled her down to her level by the collar of her shirt, “No one is allowed to call me that, princesa,” Taz’s glare was very threatening as she walked back to her seat, “No one,” she sat down, arms once again crossed, “And especially not you,”

Meda remained unfazed as she readjusted her shirt, “The rank on the team you hold is one that in the original Troupe was taken by Queen Aja Tarron of Akaridion 5. At the time of holding the title of warrior, she was a Queen-in-Waiting. So, I believe that on a technicality, it is you who is the 'princesa',”

If Taz was a dragon, you would’ve seen smoke come out of her nostrils at that moment, and maybe a bit of flame. Uprek rested a hand on the small girl’s shoulder, holding her back from killing the Akaridion right then and there.

“I love it when you insult people and drop interesting information at the same time,” Tomas, nicknamed Tootsie for undisclosed reasons, piped up. Tootsie was the group’s heavy hitter.

Meda scrunched her nose and smiled at her boyfriend, and then walked over to sit on his lap, “Thank you, darling one,” she pecked him on the cheek, and Taz made gagging noises off to the side.

“When will February return?” Up asked.

“When I talked to the Moonbeam following her audience with the High Sorceress, she assured me that she would only be about three delsons-days,” Meda corrected herself, “but I do not know for sure when she will return, but, if all goes well, it will be before the day of choosing,”

“And, if it doesn’t go well?” the Krubera asked, tone laced with unease.

“Then I believe that we will be ladened with the task of retrieving her,” 

“And this is why she shouldn’t have been chosen for this mission! February is liable to go snooping where she shouldn’t be and get herself captured. Or worse, killed,” Taz made clear her stance on the situation.

“The High Sorceress believes her is more than up to the task. If you do not trust her judgement, then you will want to take it up with her,” Meda countered.

“Y’know what? Maybe I will,” the black haired girl walked towards the door.

“Taz, sit down,” Up ordered, and Taz begrudgingly complied, “Look, I know we’re all getting a bit antsy because we’re down a member. Well, technically two,” the Troll corrected himself, “But, for now, we just gotta lay low and stick together. Until the Trollhunter is chosen, we don’t have a leader other than the High Sorceress or the Master Wizard,” he touched a hand to his chest, “I trust the Sorceress’s council, and I trust February, so let’s just be patient, ” Up turned to the black haired girl, “And Taz, she’s your older cousin, how come you question her so much?”

“Because I know my family Up!” she exclaimed, “And we’re not exactly the people I would choose to lead a school for people who go into life-threatening situations every single day,”

“Why?” Krayonder interjected.

“Because we’re not afraid of having a few casualties in battle. Especially in big armies. We don’t have too much sympathy for weak links,”

“But that’s the Mexican side, right? The High Sorceress is American,” the knight sounded confused.

“You say that as though that makes it better,” Taz responded snidely.

“How long has it even been since you talked to her?” Tootsie asked.

“I’ve never talked to her,” 

“Then how, may I ask, can you make these leaping assumptions about what she will and will not do in a position of power?” Meda continued off of her boyfriend’s question. Before Taz could respond, Meda continued into a small lecture, “If my research serves me right, which it always does, the High Sorceress’s mother was a Earth politician. A municipal leader, a fighter for the people. Would being raised in that environment not rub off on one?”

“Mega-Girl, hate to break it to you, but American politicians aren’t really ‘fighters for the people’,” Taz made air quotes.

‘Mega-Girl’ was a nickname Meda had earned on the first day of training, where she had demonstrated an advancement she’d made on her serrator. Meda was able to make a giant, energy-based avatar of herself by connecting her serrator to her core. It was very draining and she couldn’t keep it up for long, so Troupe 15, along with the High Sorceress and Master Wizard, decided it would only be used as a last resort, but the name ‘Mega-Girl’ stuck. 

“Okay, well,” Up joined in, “if you don’t trust the High Sorceress, then can you at least trust February, your friend?” 

Taz rolled her eyes, “Esmerejón ayudame, fine,” she admitted, “I will trust her this time. But if she’s not back in three days, we’re going after her,”

“Perfect! All opposed to that?” Uprek looked around. No one in the room spoke up, “Then we have an agreement. We wait three days and if February’s not back, we’ll organize a rescue mission,”


End file.
